


Sometimes the closet is literal, other times metaphorical

by Aithe



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Akira supports her regardless, Closeted Character, Futaba doesn't understand why girls are so attractive, Gen, Local genius becomes stupid after looking at pretty girls
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:40:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24616975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aithe/pseuds/Aithe
Summary: Futaba was learning a lot as one of the Phantom Thieves. Learning how to go outside, talk to people that she didn't know, save the world in a universe that only kinda sorta existed. But one thing Futaba definitely wasn't learning from anyone was...why the hell were girls so pretty?A mostly self-indulgent story where Futaba is a closeted gay disaster who desperately wants to understand her feelings. Gen rated for now, rating will increase later.
Kudos: 48





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first thing I've written in a long time, and my first work for this particular subject. So, with that in mind, I hope you all enjoy it and please feel free to point out anything I messed up on, it'll help me improve as I work on future chapters.

Futaba had always considered herself intelligent, and aware of her surroundings. Other than when she got particularly hyperfocused on one task or another, but that was besides the point. She knew everything. That was her job. She was the Oracle, the one who was supposed to keep track of every detail to keep the others safe.

But lately her focus wasn't what it should be. In the Metaverse, at least there was enough to keep her focused. Out in the real world however, there was no such mercy. And she had definitely not noticed until it was far too late that she was just...surrounded by gorgeous people. More specifically, gorgeous women. Sure, Joker was almost unrealistically attractive, but he was Joker. He was more like an older brother that everyone had a crush on, he didn't really count. But all the girls that were around seemed to tick all kinds of boxes that Futaba didn't even realise existed in the first place. Ann was almost upsettingly attractive, and despite her rather inelegant way of acting was a force to be reckoned with. Makoto was just plain intimidating at times and that was attractive to the redhead in its own way, although it was hard to tell if that's good or bad. And then there was Haru. Haru was... absolutely terrifying, and also the sweetest and kindest woman Futaba had ever met; and that was a mix that she was not remotely prepared to understand.

"Futaba. _Futaba._ "

A voice, sudden and jarring, pulls the redhead so violently out of her own thoughts that she nearly falls back out of her chair; before turning to see who dared to do such a thing.

"You've been staring at a black screen for almost ten minutes. What's gotten you so distracted?"

Joker's voice, calm and even as always, doesn't make her feel any better about being so rudely interrupted, not that the glare she delivers does anything to faze him.

"Nothing. Just thinking. That thing I do. You should try it sometime." Futaba replies, her tone dry as she spins in her chair to face Joker more directly.

"I gave up thinking after I beat everyone in my class at exams last month. But seriously, you doing okay? Normally if you're spacing out like this, something's distracting you."

Normally, Joker's insight was helpful. Useful even, if you were willing to put up with the smug smile he'd get after being told that. But when it came to how good he was at picking people apart, it was more unnerving than anything. And the last thing Futaba wanted was to be picked apart and analyzed.

"Can't I stare blankly into the abyss until my eyes start to hurt in peace? Why do you need to be so judgy? Go. Go on, shoo. Get."

It's a deflection, about as blatant as can be, and Futaba knows as much. Elegance had never been her strong suit, even more so than most others. But no amount of half-assed gesturing was going to make any actual progress toward anything, other than making for sore wrists; which is the only result that comes of things.

"Why aren't you leaving? What part of shoo don't you understand? Go. Away. As in, the place that isn't here. Go home. Go." Futaba continues, a futile attempt at trying to push a point she doesn't even believe in as she gets to her feet and drags her way over to him, slumping against him. "Or don't. I guess. You and your stupid...stupid. Ugh."

The embrace that follows soon after only serves to reinforce how little impact her words had on driving Joker away. The warmth of his grip felt almost mocking in how casual it was, which only made it worse.

"Do you want to talk about...whatever is going on with your head? Even if it's not important, I'm here to listen."

"Why do you have to figure all this stuff out so easily? What kind of crazy...weird genius brain have you got in that big head of yours?"

With slow, dragging feet, Futaba hauls herself over to her bed and falls face first onto it, letting out a groan of frustration. Joker's intent was good, obviously. It's Joker. But it was still frustrating that he just...saw right through everything without even trying.

"You're easier to read than a children's book, Futaba. I don't have to be a genius to notice you're worrying about something. So, talk."

It takes a few long, grumbling moments for Futaba to even muster up the energy to roll onto her back, trying to feign interest in the ceiling above her.

"Nobody finds out about this, okay? Nobody. Not even Sojiro."

"Of course. I'll keep any secret you need me to, you know that."

Another long, quiet moment, feeling like it dragged on for longer than it should, metered only by the gentle hum of technology as the computer runs in the background.

"I've been...thinking. About people. Us. The...us people. You know what I mean. How...how do you do it, Akira? How do you look at so many..."

Words rapidly fail the redhead, choking in her throat as fear grips her and pulls away her strength of admission. She had gotten so close and yet so suddenly it had all been torn away.

"Everyone is just so...much. So much personality. So much presence. Just, so much everything. And all the girls are so...I don't get it. Why do they get to look like that, Akira? How is that fair, that Ann gets such nice skin and such long legs? A-and Makoto is just... there's so much muscle! I didn't even know women got that strong! And Haru is just..."

Momentum, rapidly built, rapidly burns out, followed by a heavy and frustrated sigh and a flailing spread of her arms; before she rolls and faces Akira straight on.

"It's not fair. Look at them, then look at me. They're all so gorgeous. So...perfect, in different ways. And I suck. I'm so thin, and I have less curves than a straight line."

Futaba quickly finds herself feeling completely burned out, exhausted from so little as just talking and not even saying a whole lot of anything.

"So let me get this straight. You've been giving yourself a stress headache because you...what? Enjoy looking at our friends? I'm not sure I understand what the problem is." Akira replies, wanting to help but unable to do very much with such vague hints about what could easily be taken many ways.

"I don't know either. I just...don't get it. You're super good looking too, but I don't care about that. But it bothers me that all the girls are hot too, and I'm not. They'll never look at me and think anything...more, yknow? Like...I'm just gonna be Futaba. The weird nerdy one that isn't very attractive."

And there it was. That was the piece of the puzzle that was missing, and Futaba notices it even before Akira does; shown quickly by her scrambling to sit up, her eyes wide and breath shaking nervously.

"Wait. No, wait. That's not...that's not what I meant. I don't care what they're looking at me like, okay? I'm okay being Futaba. I don't want to be anything more. Stop...stop looking at me like that. Stop it." Futaba's voice shakes harder, as she starts struggling for every breath as fear tightens her chest to a deeply uncomfortable level. "I'm not...I'm not like that. I'm not."

Before Futaba can say more, Akira is already upon her, hauling her from her shaking seat into a tight embrace to try and calm her pounding heart and fearful voice.

"Futaba. It's okay. It's okay. There isn't anything wrong with you, whoever you may be. I'm not going to judge you, and I'm sure that Sojiro wouldn't either; the Thieves even less so. We won't tell anyone you don't want to, but if you do...if you are a lesbian, that isn't a problem, okay?"

The only reply Futaba can manage in a choked and desperate sobbing as she clings desperately to Akira, clawing at his clothes to stay as close as she can to the little island of safety that he was right now.

"It'll be okay. You'll be okay. We've been through much more dangerous things than you thinking that Ann is cute."

"I take it back. You're the worst. I hate you. You suck, and should go...eat crappy ramen." Futaba replies, fighting back a confusing mix of laughter and breathless sobbing as even such a stupid attempt at lightening the mood does exactly that. "I'll be okay. But seriously, you should go. Sojiro will get weird ideas."

"If you're sure. Call me if you need me, okay?" Akira replies, pulling away from the embrace gently and stepping away, his hands dropping to his pockets once more; before turning on his heel and heading out.

With quiet reigning once more, Futaba allows herself some few short, calming breaths before climbing back into her chair and flicking on the monitor of her computer. "I'm gonna need to figure out more about how all of this works..."


	2. Chapter 2

"I give up."

A heavy sigh and a slump back into the chair Futaba is sat in match the disheveled tone that she has, her eyes closed with frustration.

"I don't get it. The entire internet at my fingertips and I learn nothing. I just feel even more confused than before!"

As Futaba throws her arms back, the sudden ring of her phone turns a deliberate motion into desperate flailing from the shock of it. Once she rights herself, and grabs the offensive piece of technology, she takes a moment to calm her breathing.

"Hello?"

"Good, you're awake. I was wondering you'd fallen asleep again, or something."

Akira. Of course. Who else would possibly bother her at the deepest hours of the night, and then immediately blame her for feeling tired.

"What do you want, Akira? It's...uhh...2am. Why are you even awake this late? Did you sneak a girl into Leblanc or something? Who is it? You have to tell me, it's the rules. I'll tell Sojiro if you don't."

"No, Futaba. There's no girl. It's just me at home, same as always. I just couldn't sleep, that's all, and I thought I'd check in with you. You still seemed rattled when I left."

Futaba sighs heavily, having hoped that she had escaped this scrutiny after Akira had left her alone however many hours ago that had happened.

"I'm fine. You don't have to check in on me this much anymore, you know that. So why don't you spend your time trying to sleep rather than bothering me?"

"Where's the fun in that? If I can't sleep, neither can you. Those are the rules."

Futaba rolls her eyes enough that she could swear it was audible, hauling herself from her chair and over to her bed once more; every step feeling lethargic.

"You suck. You're lucky I like you so much, with attitude like this. No wonder everyone thinks you're a delinquent."

"Well, even bad reputations have some truth in them. So, have you been able to figure out anything else about yourself since I left? Any more secrets to share?"

She could just...hear the smug grin. He'd gotten into her head so easily and he was being such a smug asshole. This was not something that would go unpunished, but that was for future Futaba to worry about.

"No, nothing. I spent hours in front of my dumbass screens, digging through everything I possibly could. And it all just pointed back to the same...stupid answer that I don't want to have. I don't...I don't want to sound like some kind of bigot. I don't. But the thought of...of being like that scares me. It's another label that just puts me into another, even smaller box that's further away from what people think is normal."

Futaba hadn't even noticed that she was rambling until she was completely out of breath from running on her sentences.

"I don't want people to think I'm more of a freak than they do. People already stare because I'm quiet, and clingy. If anyone found out I'm...that I..."

It felt awful, the panic. The fear of such simple words. It was impossible to get used to, no matter how long things had been, or how much progress has been made. Feeling so useless over something so trivial was frustrating beyond belief.

"I understand. It's not the same, I know, but I understand how harmful labels are. Do you want to keep this just between us, or do you want to tell the others?"

"I...I don't know. I know it'll come out somehow anyway, secrets never last long in our group. I want that to happen on my terms, I just...don't know when that'll be yet. I do know I want to do it, just...that's the only detail I have."

Every word felt like it had to be forced out, through a choking throat. It was all true, of course, but that didn't make it easy. Or any less terrifying. The thought of even admitting something like this was already too much, without even adding in the extra complication of having to tell the exact friends that caused this damnable revelation in the first place.

"I'm gonna try and get some sleep. We'll talk about this again some other time." Futaba then continues, before closing the call before Akira even gets any chance to reply. It took all the energy she had left after such an exhausting day just to put her glasses and phone aside, and it's mere moments before sleep takes her.

Over in Leblanc, all Akira can do is sigh quietly, a deep rooted concern coiling its way into his chest at such a sudden and aggressive regression of all of the outward strength that Futaba had shown.

"We'll get you through this, Taba. You'll be okay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a heads-up on my rather tentative plan about this whole...thing. Short chapters as often as I can manage will be how I begin, but I'll have longer ones here and there when I can make that happen. I hope that's okay with you all.


	3. Chapter 3

Dreams tend to know best how to twist a knife deep into your heart, in one way or another. Memories of terrible times, of words long forgotten that should have stayed such; visions of things you didn't want to see.

Such dreams were plaguing Futaba tonight. The sort of dream most would consider good. Wonderful even, and pleasurable besides. A dream of burning heat, of desire and passion. Of close bodies, burning breath, biting here and there. Of hands where they've never been, belonging to friends that cloud her thoughts whenever she sees them.

Such pleasure, twisted. Desire turned sour, gentle hands turned to raking claws; pain sudden and shocking enough that, despite being false, it forces Futaba awake. Panting, and sweating, and crippled with fear.

"What...what the hell. What the hell was that." Quiet words, barely loud enough to even make it to her ears. But loud enough to feel deafening in the suffocating silence that is Futaba's room.

As quietly as she can, Futaba hauls herself from her bed, grabs her glasses and puts a pair of headphones around her neck; before dragging her feet as she finds her way down the stairs.

"Sorry Sojiro. I'm not going anywhere dangerous, it's just Leblanc. I'll...text you when I get there or something." Again, words half-muttered half-spoken, definitely not loud enough for the very asleep Sojiro to actually hear a damn word. But it calms Futaba to hear it, and that's enough for her. Soft and heavy footsteps are the only sound that then follows, coupled with the scratch of metal on wood as Futaba grabs the key to Leblanc, and the click of the door as it closes behind her.

"This isn't as fun as I thought sneaking out would be." The redhead then mumbles to herself, checking the door is locked and turning on her heel to head toward what was essentially a second home, a few short minutes away.

What is very unexpected, however, is that the lights are already on, and the familiar smell of brewing coffee is flooding the street outside. While it's a surprising change, it's a very welcome one; as is the unlocked door and the sight of Akira behind the counter, skilled hands at work on making what's likely another wonderful coffee. It's no Sojiro coffee, but it's more than good enough.

"I was wondering when you'd show up. Would you like some coffee?"

"Why are you even awake, idiot. It's...whatever your of the morning it is, and you're already at work. Sojiro won't give you any special rewards, y'know."

"Black, two sugars?"

"Aww, you remember."

A small, and of course frustratingly smug, smile adorns Akira's face as he pushes the cup over the counter. It's warm, almost burning against Futaba's skin as she wraps her hands around it, looking up at Akira through the slowly fogging lenses of her glasses.

"But seriously. Thanks for this. I...I had a weird dream. Kind of. Is it okay if I talk about it?"

A quiet nod, stoic and silent as Akira always got when things were actually, genuinely serious. Which was both a good and bad sign.

"So...it was okay. Good. Very...uh, physical. But when I...it's like, my brain realised that I was thinking about..."

This time it's less a stumble of fear, and more a stumble of embarrassment. But that is a thing Futaba knows how to beat, and thus all it takes is a moment and a sip of definitely too hot coffee to steel her resolve.

"It was Ann. I was thinking about Ann. But when the part of my brain that's scared about all this stuff noticed that, it all twisted into more vicious things. Scratches, bites for the sake of pain. It hurt, and I felt it hurt like it really happened. I still feel like there's blood on my back from getting scratched open. I don't...I don't understand, Akira. Aren't dreams like that supposed to be good? Why did it twist like that?"

It takes a moment for Akira to reply. The fact that he just...looks at her, not even blinking, would be horrifying if it wasn't just one of Akira's weirder quirks.

"Do you want me to be honest, or try and make it sound nicer?"

"Be honest. Please. This night can't get any worse."

"It's because you're scared. You're scared of thinking what you're clearly wanting to think. Your desires and fears are clashing, and that's what's causing this. You're so busy being scared of the fact that you may well be a lesbian that even the idea that you find, for example, Ann attractive; starts to become something you're seeing as negative. Your heart is telling you the truth and you're letting your head, which is wrong, be louder and more aggressive."

It quickly becomes clear that Akira has no plans on stopping this rather intimidating speech that Futaba's grip tightens on the cup, starting to burn her fingers.

"There is nothing wrong with who or what you are, and you aren't letting yourself see that. Because you're scared. And I understand that. I do. Trying to understand yourself, and your identity, is terrifying. But you aren't alone. I will always be here to fight by your side, no matter what. I will stand in your corner, come what may, and I do not care for the consequences. I don't want you to ever feel like you're alone, and you have nowhere to turn. You're family to me, Futaba."

It takes a solid minute of silence for Futaba to realise Akira is done. Her heart pounds in her chest, and as she wiped her glasses clean, her breath catches at the sight of Akira crying. The passion in his voice had been so obvious she could almost taste it, but to see that it had a physical effect on him, with tears at his cheeks and his grip on the counter tight enough to make his knuckles white...it was almost haunting.

"I don't know...I don't know what I could possibly say. I didn't...I couldn't think you'd care this much. I didn't know you cared this much, Akira. I..."

Now Futaba finds herself in tears, pulling pained, damaged fingers from the cup as she stands so suddenly it throws the seat to the floor. Were she taller, she'd try and vault the counter, but as it is, all she can do is run around it and almost suffocating herself by burying her face into his chest as the sobbing comes freely. A tight, comforting grip soon covers her as Akira embraces her shaking form, only further driving home the fact that, for good or ill, he would be there. Ride or die, it seemed.

"I promise, Futaba, we'll be okay. You'll be okay. We'll find a way for you to get through this. You'll be happy, I promise."

"I...I believe you. I think. At least...I want to believe you. And that has to count for something."


	4. Chapter 4

By the time that the end of the week rolled around, things had started to become ever so slightly clearer. Not much, it would be a miracle for anything massive to have been figured or fixed in such short order. But Futaba didn't feel quite so embarrassed or ashamed when her thoughts, and eyes, drifted where they shouldn't; and that had to mean progress was being made.

Akira, as he had promised, had been there the whole time. A few messages sent here and there, privately to keep things secret for now. Reassurances, mostly, and some small admissions on both sides to help Futaba feel more grounded. Every talk they had, over text or call, five minutes or fifty, all helped to calm her nerves, and gave her no small amount of self confidence. Little by little, the stifling fear of what Futaba was, was being pulled apart. Even if it felt like facing her own Shadow a second time, it was something that Futaba was determined to overcome. At least the part about liking women. The part about the specific women she liked being her close friends was much harder to swallow, and would be an entirely different puzzle to try and unravel after this first major step had been overcome.

The next major hurdle in said step was going to be...coming out to everyone else. One at a time was the decision that had been made, as the fear of having everyone all gathered for such a thing was more than Futaba could even consider dealing with. Which, in hindsight, felt completely ridiculous given that facing down extradimensional beings within the psyches of twisted criminals was somehow infinitely less terrifying than telling her close friends something that was technically a very simple thing to say. But then again, all logical reason also goes completely out the window when you can claim to do that kind of thing.

Deciding who to come out to first, however, had been claiming Futaba's entire mind all day. It wasn't going to be Ryuji or Yusuke, that much was obvious. They were both good people, obviously, but they were way too intense for her first foray into this kind of conversation. Even with Akira there, as he promised he'd be, it would probably be too much. Which only really left Sojiro, or one of the girls themselves. And as much as she loved Sojiro, it couldn't be him straight away either. Things had been going so well between him, Akira and herself that even considering throwing any kind of wrench into that was a source of massive panic. And that left Ann, Makoto, or Haru. Mona probably already knew after all, since that stupid cat would bother Akira to death about every tiny little thing; and the worst that would come of that would realistically only be him making some whiny jokes about having more competition.

The list of benefits and negatives that Futaba had written for each girl felt like perhaps a little overkill, but it had certainly helped clarify and organise the chaos that her thoughts had been all day. And if the list was going to be the deciding factor, it seemed like Ann would be first to know. She seemed like the safest choice, and wouldn't end up asking way too many questions like Makoto probably would, or just be...innately very terrifying and weirdly arousing like Haru is at all times.

With that decision made, such as it is, Futaba quickly compiled a message saying as much to Akira and sent it over. After all, Akira had promised to help her with every step of this whole situation and she'd be damned if she wasn't going to milk that for everything it's worth. Akira was much better with words than she was anyway, so he'd be able to make things sound way less awkward and clumsy that Futaba ever could. And now...all that was really left was to wait. And try to figure out what to actually say when it comes to the admission itself. It's not like she could write a script or anything so stupid, so it'd just have to come down to practicing something again and again so that she didn't mess up so badly when she inevitably freaked out and forgot what to say.

Ann was understanding, it wouldn't be that bad. And Futaba was at least reasonably sure that she wasn't entirely straight herself, if the adoration she had for her friend Shiho was anything to go by. So maybe she'd get it. She'd at least be the most likely to get it.

So now all that was left to do was wait. And try to figure out what to actually say, but mostly wait.


	5. Chapter 5

Waiting sucked. Shujin was deep in the middle of exams, and Futaba was just so bored. There was nothing that could keep her brain busy for any meaningful amount of time, and everyone was too busy studying to keep her company either. Couple both of those things with the fact she couldn't even keep entertained by listening into Leblanc since she promised to remove the bugs after Sojiro found one.

It felt like it had been weeks since Akira agreed to get Ann to Leblanc for 'the talk' as he so embarrassingly put it. In reality, according to the text history kept in Futaba's phone, it'd been all of three days. But it felt like weeks. Mostly because every day right now was an endless torture of waiting and failing to be distracted from waiting. It turns out, Futaba had realised, that being asleep all the time before meant that she had no idea how boring waiting was, and how impatient she was when she didn't have a project to work on.

The group chat had, at the very least, taken the edge off of the otherwise stifling wait. When everyone wasn't in exams, that is, which still left hours of waiting with nothing that was helping keep her distracted. And hours with only her thoughts was driving the redhead insane. The more she was trying not to think about the other girls in the Thieves, the more they filled her thoughts. It was a blessing indeed that said thoughts were at least staying innocent...for the most part; with Makoto staying notably absent from anything particularly risqué, and Haru being the most common participant in that line of thoughts.

If anything, Futaba was rather rapidly learning quite a lot of rather in-depth information about an aspect of her life she wasn't even particularly aware would ever be relevant. Some of it wasn't exactly surprising, but the tales her mind would weave about what she wanted to have happen to her went a little more experimental than she'd first thought. But none of that was allowed to come up during whatever conversation would be happening when she explained her situation to Ann, obviously. Things would probably be awkward enough already, without also adding the extra weirdness of anything sexual. That was a thing to figure out much, much further in the future, way after the group had finished...saving Japan, or the world, or whatever it would end up being that they do. Future Futaba could worry about anything physical. Current Futaba only wanted to worry about making sure she didn't trip on her own words and sound like a complete moron when trying to explain things.

And there was something to be said for focusing so intently on that. By now, Futaba had gotten so obsessed with making sure she didn't sound stupid while explaining things, that the actual things she was explaining didn't bother her anywhere near as much as it used to. Not that she was ready or willing to fully accept the things that she knew were in fact the truth. That was another thing for Future Futaba, who Current Futaba was starting to feel sorry for putting so many problems onto.

Current Futaba had, however, figured out what was hopefully a foolproof plan for sounding coherent when talking about, and explaining the situation. Sure, the script that she'd run through a thousand or so times in her head sounded pretty clinical and not exactly...normal, but who cares. As long as the point got across, that was the important part. And it did that much, at least.

Shaking her head free of what felt like the fifth spacing out of the day, Futaba then checks the time.

It was barely lunchtime.

This was going to be a long day.


	6. Chapter 6

"Akiraaaaaa. Why are you ignoring me? I've been texting you forever, and I know you're not in school anymore."

Bored out of her mind, Futaba stares with frustration at the very distinct lack of any sign of a reply on the messaging app the group all used. Never before had she felt so indignant at something that should be all rights still be something that scares the crap out of her. Each and every passing hour had felt absolutely excruciating, knowing that Akira had said that Ann was free and would be heading to Leblanc, where Futaba currently was and neither Akira or Ann had shown up at.

And it wasn't like school ended five, or ten minutes ago. It had been...about an hour and a half unless the scheduling had completely changed. And there wasn't so much as a single reply. Not one. Futaba couldn't figure out whether to be worried, angry or both. And without an answer for that question, all that was left was to, yet again, be extremely bored.

\----------------

"Futaba. Hey, wake up."

Being shaken awake really isn't very high on the list of things Futaba enjoys, and she shows as much with a rather ineffective flailing. It was a voice she recognised, which means there wasn't any aggression in the action, but it was an attempt nonetheless.

With foggy eyes, the redhead wipes a little drool from her mouth as she looks up at the perpetrator who dared to wake her up. And then, upon seeing that said person was actually Ann, promptly panic and flail more aggressively as she falls back from her stool, landing rather heavily on the floor.

"That...looked like it hurt. Are you okay? Here, let me help you up."

An outstretched hand, quickly grabbed as Ann helps Futaba to her feet. It had very much hurt, but any pain that should currently be present was muted almost entirely by how close Ann was, and the sudden crash of memory that reminded the shorter girl what she was here for.

"Sorry I got here so late. My agency called me in out of nowhere, and I kinda dragged Akira around with me. He said something about you needing to have a one on one conversation with me about something."

With that, Futaba's heart sank. That wasn't what the plan was at all. Akira was supposed to be here so that the conversation was easier. He wasn't supposed to just...bail on her like this. This wasn't the plan. Where was Akira even going, he lived here.

"So, what's up? The way Akira was talking, it sounded like this was kind of a big deal."

With a heavy sigh, Futaba drags herself onto the stool she was sat upon once more, and looks over to the blonde.

"You might wanna sit down. I'd make coffee like Akira does, but I suck at it."

As Ann sits in the next stool over, it takes all of the willpower Futaba has simply to stay where she is, and not run up to the attic and hide. This conversation was too important to run away from, however, so she was holding her ground. For now.

"So. The...the reason that I wanted you to come here was a conversation. Obviously. I...there's a thing. About me. It's..."

It feels like mere seconds and yet Futaba finds herself tripping up over almost every word that came out of her mouth. Without Akira here for emotional backup, this was going every bit as poorly as had been expected.

"A very big deal, apparently. I haven't seen you get this worked up since your Palace. You do know I'll be okay with whatever it is you have to say, right? We're friends."

Friends. That word feels safe, and Futaba feels immensely grateful in her own way that it doesn't actually feel like the wrong word for what she and Ann are. If that hadn't been the case, this would be even more complex than it already is.

"I...I'm not...ugh. Ugh, this sucks. No amount of preparing could help here and now, I guess. L-Look, Ann. I...there's a thing about me. A thing that makes me...makes me different. Weird. Not bad, I guess, but...weird. And I wanted to let you know, because it kind of, sort of involves you? In sort of a roundabout way."

By the time Futaba realises she's rambling and Ann already looks a little confused, the momentum is too much to slow, let alone stop.

"Sorry. Sorry, I know I'm talking too much and too fast, but just...hear me out. I've been doing a whole bunch of thinking about things. About me, and my brain and the way it works. And it turns out I...I think..."

A sudden, jarring choke of breath as the most important part of what needs to be said sits heavily in Futaba's throat, rather than flowing so freely as all else had. A burning discomfort, much like that which had happened when she had explained to Akira, boiled once more beneath her skin and left her breathless and impossibly uncomfortable.

"I'm...gay. I think. That's the best word for it that I have. I'm...I like girls. You, and Haru, and even Makoto kinda. You're all just...just so damn pretty, and it makes my brain just sort of... stop working the way it's supposed to sometimes. I just get so flustered and so embarrassed just being around you guys. I mean, look at me. Compared to you, I'm so unimpressive. I'm not as pretty as you, right? And I'm nowhere near as important as someone like Haru. A-and I'm never going to be as brave as Makoto is. I can't help it, I just get so...you're all so much. So tall, so...imposing. So attractive."

Futaba is torn out of her glazed-eye, dazed rant by a hand on her shoulder. Ann's, of course, gentle but forceful enough that it shakes the redhead back to her senses.

"That's what's been eating you up, then? I was worried that it was going to be some kind of problem, jeez. You seriously had me worried."

That was absolutely not what the sort of reaction that Futaba was expecting. Disagreement, confusion. Hell, maybe even anger. But a sort of...begrudging acceptance? That's not meant to happen.

"You looked so scared, but it's not like there's anything wrong with you, Futaba. Jeez. Did you think I'd judge you for being a lesbian or something?"

"Yeah! O-of course I did! You were supposed to think I'm weird, or something, you weren't supposed to just be okay with it right away!"

Disbelief quickly gives way to misguided anger, and Futaba gets off her chair and grabs Ann's shoulders, now shaking for a different reason.

"Don't you get it? This is just another thing that makes me weird. Another way for people to look down on me. Another thing that makes me the freak everyone thinks I am when they look at me."

"Futaba, there is nothing wrong with you, and who you like. As long as you end up happy with whoever you choose, whenever that is, who cares who they are? You know that Akira, me, and everyone else are here for you right? We'll keep you safe, and away from whatever asshole thinks there's something wrong with you for liking other women. You're not alone."

With shaking breaths, and even more aggressively shaking legs, Futaba finds herself barely able to stand as she lets go of Ann and nearly collapses against the counter.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. I just...I get like this. Emotions make everything kind of...give up. Leave me tired, and wobbly. I'll be okay. I'll probably crash on the couch upstairs rather than go home though."

"Alright. Do you want me to...go? Now that you've said everything you look like you can. If you spill any more secrets, it looks like you'll fall asleep right here and now."

"Don't tell anyone what I told you, okay? Please? You and Akira are the only person I've told. I'm gonna tell everyone else over time."

"Of course. Do you want some help getting upstairs?"

Futaba shakes her head, absolutely exhausted as she pushes herself back to her feet, even if only just.

"I'll be alright. Thank you, though. Seriously, I...I know I kinda freaked out on you, but I'm really, really glad you aren't freaked out by me."

"Don't worry about it, seriously. You're one of us, and I'm your friend. It's all good."

No longer having the energy to even talk, all Futaba can offer is a small, grateful smile, before having to lean heavily on anything within arm's reach as she hauls herself up the stairs, hearing the door chime behind her as she does so. And it's mere moments between when her back hits the couch cushions and when the emotional exhaustion forces sleep upon her.


End file.
